


when honor is a bitter comfort

by saintsavage



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Harry Lives, M/M, background Hartwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsavage/pseuds/saintsavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy is the perfect Kingsman agent, the ideal candidate. She always does what is right and just, but what if her black and white view of the world has lead her to make a terrible mistake?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They've Won

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I've been working on this alongside my a/b/o fic and really, really wanted to get it posted so here it is! Expect erratic updates and enjoy? Also I'm terrible at tagging and I can't say for sure if this is going to have a happy ending or not. PROBABLY NO SMUT. It's not that kinda fic, bruv.

They'd done it. Stopped Valentine, saved the world. They were big damn heroes.  
  
It should have felt good, felt _right_ , but all Roxy could feel as Merlin told her they'd won was dread. She gave him her co-ordinates and he promised to be there soon, even if it meant dragging Eggsy away from someone called Tilde. She signed off and settled in on the snow, half-frozen and trying to rationalize an impulse that had been growing since Eggsy stepped out of the tube and told her he'd killed Arthur.  
  
Roxy had always been a bit too logical, she liked things that she could see and touch, could heft and throw and pry apart if she wanted. As such, she didn't believe in much. The weight of a loaded gun in her hand, the satisfaction of stopping those who broke the law, seeing them punished... the _rightness_ of it had drawn her to the life she led now, carried her through training to this moment here, sitting in the snow.  
  
But now... a sudden beep broke in to her thoughts and Roxy took the distraction a little _too_ eagerly for comfort, answering her phone only to drown in a rush of excited Eggsy-speak. She laughed at his joy, teased as he told her how outnumbered he'd been, how he'd even got to makeout with a princess before they left. It was hard to be morose with him in her ear, telling the story of their monumental victory followed by the most unexpected news she could have imagined: Harry, _their_ Harry, was alive.  
  
"What? How?" Roxy hated that her first thought was: _if Harry is alive, Eggsy can't be a knight, can he?_  
  
"Merlin's fucking brilliant, that's how! Glasses deflected the shot and Valentine was too fucking stupid to check the body." Though he's miles away she finds herself smiling. "I just can't believe it, he's alive Rox! Fucking alive!" He cheered again, unable to contain his joy. She didn't blame him, though the more pragmatic part of her wondered how he could be so happy. With Harry alive Kingsman had no need for a new Galahad, which meant Eggsy was back to being a failed trainee. But she knew he'd never see it that way. He was too soft, too kind.  
  
She rather liked that about him.  
  
In the end it was amazing how quickly the next few hours went by. Merlin picked her up, as promised, with Eggsy pinging off the walls until they landed in Kentucky and picked up an injured, somewhat subdued Harry Hart. Knowing the two of them needed a moment she popped up front to sit with Merlin and ignored any and all sounds that might have been coming from the cabin.  
  
"It doesn't feel real." She hadn't meant to speak, had just wanted to enjoy the (relative) quiet with the only person who had ever challenged her to be better than she was, yet she's glad she said something because the corner of Merlin's mouth turns up, a rare smile. He doesn't say anything, understanding that her mind seems to be running in a thousand different directions. Just offers her one of his hands, a tether to reality. Roxy's thoughts continue to drift and by the end of the trip she's finally made her decision.  
  
The four of them leave the plane, Eggsy and Harry rumpled and connected at the hip, Merlin walking sedately behind her, and she soaks up the peace of this moment. This moment, this gorgeous, wonderful bubble in time where they have won a great victory, where they are all who they say they are.  
  
She allows herself to pretend that she's really Lancelot. Really theirs.


	2. A New Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The knights gather and Roxy reveals a harsh truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part two of the three mini-ish chapters I have already written.

It had been twelve hours since V-Day had been stopped dead in its tracks and Harry - soon to be Arthur - had called them all for their first official meeting since the chaos had stopped. Roxy took care in how she dressed, picking out her favorite suit - black on white, no tie, heeled oxfords - before putting her hair up in a no-nonsense ponytail. With her Kingsman-issue glasses she looked like Lancelot should.  
  
She _was_ Lancelot.  
  
Abruptly she pulled the tie from her hair, letting it fall in messy waves around her face. _Might as well look a little bit like me._ She'd have thrown the glasses across the room but it would be too suspicious if she wasn't wearing them.  
  
Reluctantly she rode the tube back to the tailor's shop, refusing to fidget in her seat.  
  
Eggsy meets her at the door, apparently waiting behind. He looks happy. Tired, but content, and she gives in to the impulse to hug him. _I really shouldn't, it's weak to want to make this last._ When she pulls away he's frowning at her, concerned, but he must decide that she'll share when she's ready. _I'm never going to be ready._  
  
The door opens and she's ushered in, smile strained as she takes in how few knights are left. Only Percival, Gawain, Tristan, and Kay sat at their appointed seats while Merlin stood off to the side. Roxy allows herself one brief moment to think about changing her mind, to pretend she could stay here with them and fix the world. And then the moment is over.  
  
Nobody paid her much notice as she slipped in to place and folded her hands in her lap. Eggsy, cheeky git that he was, dragged a stool over so he could sit right next to Harry. The meeting is quick, mercifully. They vote Harry in as their official Arthur and elect to have Eggsy take his place as Galahad. It's a bit of a surprise, but one Roxy is genuinely happy about because if anyone in this room deserves to be a knight it's Eggsy, with his bright smile and generous heart.  
  
A terrible part of her thinks: _if Eggsy is a knight he doesn't need my place, I don't have to do this._  
  
She ruthlessly squashes the thought and listens to the rest of their debriefing. Three knights had deflected with Chester, the bastards, and the others were... unknown and likely lost to them. For now they didn't toast, choosing to remain hopeful. Nothing else is really brought up, they're all still numb from their various experiences. Percival looks downright shaky. They all agree that Kingsman, for the time being, can rest.  
  
No one says they need a little time to adjust to the horror of what they'd done.  
  
Pretty soon the others are filing out of the room, leaving the four of them behind. _It's time._ Roxy stands, awash in a dignity she doesn't feel, before approaching Harry. Arthur. Without preamble she's setting her gun before him, followed by her glasses. She doesn't give anyone the time to protest, to even think for a moment that she's doing something honorable. Noble even.  
  
"I'm a plant from MI6, sent to destroy Kingsman."  
  
And there it is.


	3. Fragile Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once she's gotten them to believe she's telling the truth Roxy waits to see what will become of her now.

Roxy remains standing for the next hour as the three men go from incredulous to cold. She hadn't meant to get attached to them, to any of them. When she'd been handed the file she had been more than ready to dismantle a rogue organization that was operating outside of the law and was a danger to England. She had firmly believed in her mission, knew it _needed_ to be done and there was no one more skilled than her. And then V-Day happened.  
  
Now she isn't quite sure she knows anything at all.  
  
Without Kingsman, Valentine undoubtably would have won. It is a fact that she does not dispute. There never would have been enough time to get all the proper clearances needed, to organize an international team, to force everyone in to acting instead of talking it half to death until it was too late. A lack of national ties is what allowed Kingsman to do what needed to be done, what was _right_.  
  
By then it was too late to alter her course. The moment she'd netted Percival's attention there was no backing out of her mission. Roxy knew this now, with painful clarity, even if she wished desperately that she could change it somehow; if only she'd known then how wrong she was then. Self-assured and foolish. She had never questioned or even thought for her damn self and now she was here, hurting the people who had become her family.  
  
Turning herself in was the only way to right things, but it didn't make it easier to watch Eggsy's smile dim until he was stone-faced. Of the three he'd been the hardest to convince, his faith in her impossibly strong. _I never deserved your friendship._ It's a thought that shames her. She had to give Merlin a special passcode to unlock her file before Eggsy finally started to accept that she was telling the truth: she'd been playing them all.  
  
While they looked through her file she thought about her handler, Jacobs, had always been joking about her being Merlin's undoing; because that's what she was. They'd pointed Roxy like a burning arrow directly at the man, knowing that he was the key, the one who made everything work. Chester King had been dismissed as a figurehead, an idiot who had been a decent field agent but didn't have what it took to keep an organization like Kingsman under the radar.  
  
Ian Burke though, he was _exactly_ that kind of man. A certified genius, born to poverty in Edinburgh, who rose to great heights with a full scholarship to Oxford. He briefly ran a very successful tech company before 'retiring' and more or less falling off the map. Specifically, he'd unearthed Kingsman and had bullied them in to accepting him, just as tenacious in that as he'd been about everything else in his life.  
  
_"You've got to catch his eye, Roxanne."_ She remembered rolling her eyes, thinking what a joke that was. Men were easy. Show a bit of leg, smile, and you usually had them. But she was wrong. Ten minutes in the same room as him and she knew it, had to revise her strategy entirely because Ian Burke - Merlin - wasn't the typical _anything_. Jacobs could joke in her ear, could start calling her Nimue as though it was the funniest thing in the world, but he couldn't know that halfway through trying to get Merlin to fall for her she found herself falling a little bit herself.  
  
And now here they were, unable to even make eye contact as Eggsy gets in her face, belligerent and hurting. "Is that why you picked me out to pal around with? To help hurt Kingsman?" He's so close she can see that his lashes are wet, that he's fighting tears because Eggsy was a boy who loved with his whole heart, and he'd loved her like his own. _I'm so sorry._ She can't lie to him, even if she selfishly wants to soften the blow, to keep him from hating her.  
  
Roxy doesn't know if she could live with herself, knowing Eggsy hated her.  
  
"You were the weakest link in that room. My handler agreed that ensuring you went as far as possible would make it easier for me to become Lancelot, because I knew if we went head-to-head... I'd win."  
  
He looked devastated, like she'd socked him in the jaw, but he quickly hid that look away, focusing on being angry, already learning to hate her. "Fuck you then." Eggsy stormed out of the room, unable to stand the sight of her. Her stomach dropped when the door slammed and Roxy wanted nothing more than to go after him, to shake him and tell him that even if she'd picked him out for all the wrong reasons he was her friend now and she was so, so sorry for ever thinking he wasn't the best of them. Because he was.  
  
But there are two powerful men still in the room, looking at her like an unwanted stain on the rug. Somehow that look is more crushing coming from Merlin. "Was I part of it too?" He doesn't say which part. He doesn't have to.  
  
"Yes." Her response to Eggsy had been unflinchingly honest but now she's all but whispering. _This hurts more than I imagined it ever could._ She keeps her eyes on Harry, focusing on him because he isn't radiating fury. If anything he almost seems... sympathetic? Understanding?  
  
Merlin doesn't say anything else, just nods at Harry and leaves.  
  
"Well then, Miss Morton, I suppose we have to lock you up." Harry escorts her to the belly of Kingsman HQ, depositing her in one of the well-appointed cells and leaving without a word.  
  
It's probably for the best. The second he leaves she crumples to the ground, eyes dry but burning, throat so tight she almost can't take in any air. Roxy knows now that she's thrown her life away, her real life, on the fragile hope of being forgiven. She'd done it to protect Kingsman... and they hated her for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the last one. I can't make any promises as to when the next chapter is going to be up, I have the next few outlined/roughly done up but they definitely are no where near ready and my other fic is my main priority, but I'm hoping to update this at least a few times a month. Right now it's looking like it'll be 10 chapters total (though it may be a bit longer) so it's not a terribly long story.


	4. Unexpected Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy is not adjusting well to life as a prisoner.

Now, as a confirmed traitor to both Kingsman and MI6, one might have expected Roxy to curl up on her cot and stay there for days. To wallow in a misery of her own making. Perhaps if she'd been anything _less_ than herself she'd have given in to the temptation... but Roxanne Scarlet Morton had never given up, not in her entire life. It just wasn't in her nature and she wasn't about to passively await her fate.  
  
Not that Kingsman seemed in any real rush to decide anything.  
  
That first week she's left entirely alone except for the delivery of meals and Roxy spends it very close to how she spent her time previously - waking early, tidying her room before her morning exercise (pushups, situps, pull ups, jumping jacks) followed by breakfast. In place of going over the news on her tablet she selects one of the dozen volumes of classics left on a small shelf that's bolted to the wall.  
  
It had surprised her, how well-appointed her cell was. Besides the shelf there was a pair of comfortable little armchairs, a separate washroom (complete with a clawfoot tub), the shelf with the books, a clock, even a little electric kettle. The cot was the same type in the dormitories but other than that it was almost... cozy. She wondered why but was determined not to ask questions... that is, if they ever came to ask her any. _Maybe they plan on leaving me here forever._  
  
After breakfast she usually finds herself studying the room, devising escape plans she won't use. It helps to pass the time. Sometimes she'll finish whatever book she'd started at breakfast but she tries not to go through them too quickly - who knows if she'll ever get more.  
  
Lunch arrives around noon, plain fare but filling nevertheless. She spends an hour running in place, in lieu of her normal run, but with so much time between lunch and dinner she often finds herself doing more situps or pushups until her body aches. _Well, on the bright side I've never been more fit in my life._ Followed by more reading, maybe a soak in the tub. After dinner she gets ready for bed, taking her time brushing out her hair, drawing it out for as long as she possibly can.  
  
By the second day she's running sprints, back and forth across her cell until she's so winded she collapses on the ground.  
  
After a week she's going a little stir crazy, might even snap at the rather nice woman who brings her meals because she isn't used to spending so much time alone without anything to occupy her mind. Roxy can't ever remember being so bored, not in her entire _life_ and it has her on edge.  
  
On what she believes is her ninth day (she has a clock, but no calendar, and the days are slowly blurring together) Percival visits; he doesn't say anything, just stares at her like she's the cause of his every misfortune. He smells heavily of gin and looks absolutely wrecked, like he hasn't slept in days, and as much as she wants to say something, anything... well, what exactly can she say? I'm sorry?  
  
Nevermind the ghosts that are haunting him, remnants of V-Day that they all must be struggling with. Roxy can't imagine what it must have felt like, what Percival and the others must have done while Valentine's chips sent them in to a brutal rage. _And we let it happen to them._ At the time they had made the sound choice not to inform the other knights, because they couldn't know who may have turned their coat, but in the aftermath surely the surviving knights knew that they'd _deliberately_ been kept in the dark while someone like her, a _true_ traitor to their cause, had been trusted. Spared.  
  
He leaves after staring at her for what feels like hours but is in fact only fourteen minutes. She knows because she watched the clock from the corner of her eye, standing front and center at parade rest, hardly breathing because she was waiting for him to say something - hell, to even open the barred door and attack her. But he just stood there before shaking his head in disgust, signalling to be buzzed out. He didn't come back.  
  
Eggsy never visits.  
  
She hates that she keeps hoping that he will, berates herself for wanting a bloody miracle. He has every right to hate her, to leave her down here alone. Reviled. Loathed. An anathema to Kingsman instead of its brightest star. _I brought this all upon myself and now I have to live with it. Wishing isn't going to change anything._  
  
They begin the interrogations shortly after, filling up the hours between lunch and dinner quite nicely though Roxy'd never thought she would see the day where being grilled for information was a _relief_. Merlin is there, always, but he never looks at her. Doesn't even speak.  
  
Kay goes easy on her, considering. Allows her refusal to give them any intel on her (former) agency. Every day she expects to see Gawain - Kingsman's unofficial torturer - instead, but so far they've been handling her with kid gloves. She doesn't know whether to feel grateful or furious about that, just as she doesn't know if Merlin's refusal to even meet her eyes is crushing or a sign of his own cowardice.  
  
She's tempted to yell at him, to demand his attention. _Look at me, Ian. I dare you to look at me while you tell yourself I'm nobody, no one. I fucking dare you to._ But she already knows that he'd only sigh, pinch the bridge of his nose, and say that was enough for the day. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of yelling back, oh no. _Bastard_.  
  
Abruptly, three weeks later (she has started scuffing the wall with her shoes in order to track the time) the door to the hall opens and it's Harry. Harry smiling mildly, as he often does. Harry holding a tray with two steaming mugs that smell like hot chocolate. Harry also holding, of all things, the leash to her very excited but reluctantly behaving poodle.  
  
"Harry?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters feel so short but I kind of like it? Also I am finding it impossible to work on anything but this story.


	5. Almost No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Roxy have a little chat and reach an understanding.

"Good afternoon Miss Morton, how are you?" He gestures for her to step away from the bars and she obliges, waiting as the buzzer sounds and allows Harry to enter her cell. She can't help the thought of a sudden, dramatic effort to escape, of giving Hercule the command to attack while she sprints out of her cell, away from the nightmare that was her current life... but it's only a thought. She'd never give them the satisfaction of running.  
  
The door rolls shut as Harry makes himself at home, setting the tray on the small folding table he's brought with him before unclipping her poodle's leash and taking a seat. Like a shot Hercule is flying to her arms, licking her face and whining like he thought he'd never see her again. She's surprised by the sudden tears matting her eyelashes, by how tightly she clings to the silly creature.  
  
Her mind flashes back to the day Merlin told her to shoot him, the memory edged in shame because she had obeyed so easily. She'd been more than willing to sacrifice Hercule - and contrary to what the other knights might have thought she had _not_ been pre-warned about the blanks. Roxy had pulled the trigger fully expecting to see the dear, idiot dog who had counted on her for months, who trusted her, to end in an ugly smear of red. She hadn't even _hesitated_.  
  
_What kind of person does that even make me?_ Wet nose presses against her neck, still wiggling in her hold as Roxy sits in the empty chair beside Harry. _I was so sure, so ready to hurt you, my poor boy._ _Once again so fucking sure of myself that I didn't stop to wonder if what I was doing was right. No wonder I ended up here._  
  
Still, it soothes some part of her that's hurting and raw to have something left of her old life. Someone who loves her and has forgiven her without reservation, even if it's a poodle. Her arms tighten around him, already dreading Harry's eventual departure. There's no way they'll let her keep him down here. Even if they would, Hercule was not a small animal, it wouldn't be far to trap him just because she was lonely.  
  
Now to figure out what Harry intended to achieve by bringing her dog and a small luxury. _Maybe he's down here because they need me, need Lancelot?_ Even to herself it sounds desperate, grasping. It makes her want to cringe at just how pathetic she's become. _I am better than that, stronger. If I'm going to convince them to give me a chance I need to show that._  
  
Glancing at Harry, who is sipping at his mug and looks like he can see every thought in her head - he was an unsettling man even under normal circumstances - Roxy considered what she knew about the new Arthur. Every report she'd written about him during her training had been _very_ explicit about just how dangerous he was. Her handler had dismissed her concerns, but he'd spent his entire life safe behind a desk. He didn't know that violent men could look so mild, could be so well-mannered and polite. It's what made them so incredibly dangerous in the first place. She's fairly certain she'd suggested they take him out with a sniper, quick and fast, without any possible warning.  
  
Harry looks like he might know that too.  
  
"I can't say I was expecting company." She is careful to remain polite, schooling her features to calm neutrality. _Just what is it that you want from me?_ Roxy doesn't think this is part of the effort to get her to talk, it seems too casual, but she's wary because she knows she has broken the trust of one Eggsy Unwin and Harry strikes her as the type of man who would do terrible, terrible things for the people he loves.  
  
"Ah, well with everything being so quiet I'm afraid I have more free time than I care for." Something flickers in his eyes, something that just might be mirth. "Although I admit, I have an ulterior motive for being here." She inclines her head, acknowledging that this isn't a social visit. _I'm not that naive._ "Your dog is destroying my house."  
  
Roxy blinks. How else is she supposed to respond to... that? "I'm sorry?"  
  
"Eggsy insisted on bring the wretched thing home and it's been chaos ever since. He dug up my roses, eats the morning paper for breakfast, and spends the rest of the day howling at the door." Though he's going on in that banal drawl she's accustomed to hearing from him, Roxy can honestly say she has _no idea_ what the man is angling for - and he must be angling for something because it's _Harry_ and the man does _nothing_ without purpose. "So I've brought him to you."

His smile is all sharp edges, as though he's done something clever. "Now, how are you really? I promise, the chocolate isn't poisoned." Deciding to play along with whatever game he is playing Roxy shifts her lapful of poodle just enough so that she can grab the other mug. It smells heavenly. _Well, I might as well. I doubt he'd poison me anyway. If Harry wanted me gone there would be no one to miss me._ Hazel eyes glance down to the content, half-grown pup in her lap. _Almost no one_ , she silently amends.  
  
It tastes every bit as good as it smells and she downs the whole thing in four long swallows which makes Harry smile again. A different smile, softer somehow. Less... feral. He seems to genuinely be waiting for her to tell him the unabridged truth so she plunges ahead, telling herself she's being brave. "My best friend hates me, I've ruined my life, and Merlin... I might as well not even _exist_." It sounds petulant, like the complaints of a little girl instead of a highly trained secret agent, and Roxy _hates_ that she's confessed her misery so readily. _Dammit_.  
  
"Ah, well Merlin has been quite busy with the new recruits." He takes another drink, studying her over the rim of his cup. It isn't a comfortable thing to be considered by Harry Hart but she refuses to look away or show her unease. She isn't going to give another inch until she has a better idea of what he wants from her. At least, she doesn't _intend_ to until the idea of someone else stepping in to her place pops in to her head. It isn't a pleasant thought.  
  
"Wouldn't want Kingsman to go without Lancelot." Her tone is bitter when she'd meant for it to be flippant. _Double damn. So much for convincing him that I'm a consummate professional. Someone he needs. Someone Kingsman needs._  
  
"It's for Bors, actually. We lost several knights to the events of V-Day, as you well know." It's strangely mollifying, knowing they haven't replaced her yet. That she's still Lancelot if only on the inside.  
  
Setting his mug on the tray Roxy watches as Harry leans back, expression shifting to something more calculating while his hands settle on the arms of the chair, studying her again. _And what a picture I must make, dark circles under my eyes, dressed in sweats with a snoring dog in my lap, my hair a tangled fucking mess. I don't look like a spy, like something reliable or worth trust._ A cruel voice in her head whispers that she looks the part of a traitor, which is fitting because she is one.  
  
"May I ask you something, Miss Morton?" If he senses her self-deprecating inner monologue he covers it well, dark eyes pinning her in place even as that smooth, soft voice begins what she can only assume is going to be a 'friendly' chat about her position in MI6 and any information he can glean from her.  
  
Roxy might be a traitor, a burned spy who turned her coat too late, but she has never, _ever_ 'snitched' and doesn't intend to start now, even if it would make her time as a prisoner of Kingsman easier. Even if it might buy her freedom. "I won't tell you anything about MI6." She says it as forcefully as she can, knowing that Harry will probably drape disappointment over himself like a cloak, will shake his head and give her an ultimatum. But she needs him to understand there are some things she won't do. She _can't_ do.  
  
It seemed that this entire encounter was designed to be nothing she could have predicted because Harry only nods his head, as though he'd never ask such a thing from her or expect her to answer. In that  moment she forgets that she's no longer his equal. "I respect your decision to keep their confidence."  
  
_Remember Rox, he's slippery. You can't let yourself get lulled in to trusting him._ "What is it then?"  
  
"Why did you turn yourself in? It's very unlikely we'd have caught you, not after everything that had occurred." Though she's been asked hundreds of questions since that fateful day when she'd unveiled herself, this is not one anybody had dared to ask. Perhaps because they were afraid of what she might say. _Or maybe they think they know everything they need to about me._ That it's Harry asking isn't terribly surprising - he's always struck her as the sort to like puzzling things out for himself - but she takes the time to think about how best to frame her response.  
  
"I ask myself that a lot." Gently she scratches Hercule's curly ears, a faint smile lifting the edges of her mouth when he huffs at her. Harry waits, patient to a fault. She isn't sure where to even begin but finally she meets his gaze, willing him to understand what she's about to tell him because Harry might be capable of cold brutality but he also is a man who knew what it was like to struggle with containing that darkness, harnessing it and using it to fuel a better, worthier cause. They were very much alike, in that way.  
  
"I was sent here because I was told Kingsman was a rogue entity operating outside of the law. It was a mockery of every legitimate spy organization out there and it needed to be dealt with. But once I was here it... nothing was as I expected. And Kingsman might not operate inside of the law or with the approval of a government agency but that's the only reason we were able to stop Valentine. Everyone else was scrambling. They had the pieces but they weren't paying attention. Too busy with promotions and paperwork and politics." She doesn't say: _some of them wanted V-Day._ "When it was over I realized I couldn't help undo Kingsman nor could I defect. My only choice was to blow my own cover."  
  
Silence stretches between them, though it isn't strained. Roxy dips her head down, watching Hercule's chest rise and fall while allowing Harry the time to consider her words. She knows that if Harry decides her cause was just, if he sides with her, there is a small, flickering bit of a chance that she'll leave this cell alive. That she can do what she does best, be the bloody spy the world needs her to be.  
  
It's a fool's hope, and she knows it, but she clings to the thought tenaciously because it's all she has. Everything hinges on convincing the man across from her that she still has value.

Finally he crosses his legs, a lazy sort of gesture that draws her attention. It's clear he's decided something, but as to what she cannot say. _Please, please believe me. Use me to help Kingsman because you know I can._ "Eggsy's heartbroken, you know." He doesn't say: _and Merlin is plain broken._

It isn't an answer to her silent plea.  
  
"I didn't mean to hurt him." _Either of them._ "But I wasn't going to lie, either. He deserved the truth." _And so much more._ Though it's true, she still finds herself wanting to go back, to change things, to shake the overconfident girl who thought she was so much better than the soft-hearted chav with the chip on his shoulder. She wants to scream at her former self, tell her that Ian Burke is _not_ a target. That Kingsman is the home she wants so badly.  
  
"Perhaps you should have told him the beginning didn't matter nearly as much as the middle part where you genuinely considered him your friend." Those words, spoken so simply, make the tension in her body melt away because Harry is, in his own way, telling her that he doesn't blame her. That she _might_ even have him as an ally.  
  
It's enough of a relief that she finds herself smiling warmly at him, like they're back to the part where he's like her favorite uncle. "I'm afraid I'm not very tactful, in that aspect." Now that she seems to have his approval Roxy wants nothing more than to ask him about the state of the world, to have a _real_ conversation, but his mobile is chirping at him and she knows the brief interlude is at an end. She hugs Hercule to her chest, tight enough that he yips in protest.  
  
Ever the gentleman Harry is standing, grabbing the mugs but leaving her the little table as she sets Hercule on the ground and stands. "I have to be going, I do hope the company helps." The door buzzes and opens but he makes no move to take the yawning poodle with him. Roxy dutifully clips the leash on and kisses Hercule's chocolate head before offering it to Harry but the man raises both hands, refusing to take it.  
  
"You mean he can stay?" Roxy pulls the leash close to her chest and for a selfish moment her heart soars, so grateful that she won't be alone. But the practical side of her prevails and she straightens her spine and offers him the lead again. "No, it wouldn't be fair, this isn't a place for a dog. He needs space."  
  
"Well if he comes home with me I'm going to shoot him." Hazel eyes narrow, briefly considering just how badly it would damage their reestablished connection if she hurts him for threatening her dog. "I'm sure something can be arranged for his needs." Roxy wants to protest, to insist that he not lock up a poor, innocent animal just because Hercule had the misfortune of being hers but her throat is tight and she's appalled to realize she just might cry if he changes his mind.  
  
But Harry only turns and makes his way to the exit, no doubt testing her by giving her his back completely while the cell door slowly rolls to a close. Before he disappears behind the circumspect white door her turns back to her with a strange sort of half-smile, glancing at Hercule. "You should know: Eggsy is the one that asked me to bring him to you."  
  
That has her smiling so wide it _hurts_ , grabbing up Hercule and spinning him around. "Maybe he doesn't hate me completely?" And if Eggsy doesn't hate me, perhaps Ian... no, better not to think of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we finally get to find out what's going on with Kingsman and what they intend to do about Roxy.


	6. Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy finally gets some answers.

Months pass, maybe three. She's stopped marking the time. There doesn't seem to be any point in it. The leaves change, brilliant and vibrant and dying, and Roxy tries not to compare herself to them. She's already half-mad with wanting to know what is going to become of her, her mind constantly circling the events of the past year, trying to make sense of it all - it's a frustrating exercise in futility, and she _knows_ it - but if she's always been a bright girl. Without anything to focus her brilliance on solving she's slipping away from the guilt and the shame, drifting rapidly towards rage.  
  
Rage she can understand.  
  
When her heart feels like lead and she can't bring herself to eat, she buoys herself up with her anger. After all, it isn't as though she did anything wrong. Kingsman was a _mission_ , it was part of her _job_ to analyze them, to send reports back to MI6 with suggestions on how to tear the agency down with minimal damage. Can they really blame her for following orders? She certainly followed every order Kingsman had given her, including holding a gun on her best (first and only) friend while Eggsy revealed Chester's betrayal. What was the difference?  
  
If it had been up to her, after V-Day she'd have found a way for MI6 and Kingsman to come to an understanding. A small, optimistic part of her had hoped that by giving herself away she'd be proving her worth, showing that she was a true knight in her heart even if her path had been more complicated than most. And dammit, that's how it _should_ have happened.  
  
Eggsy, Eggsy she forgave. Even burning with hate after long weeks of solitude, brewing in her own indignation, Roxy could never bring herself to blame him. The others, oh how they deserved her wrath, but him... of them all, he had the sole right to leave her to her fate.  
  
She'd deliberately mislead him from the start, tricked him in to liking her. It had been so easy to fall in to friendship with him too, like breathing. Roxy had never had any close mates before. She'd been too focused on the future, on achieving her goals. There hadn't been any _time_ for giggling in the hallway, teasing some faceless girl about her hair. She'd needed only her determination, her ambition, or so she told herself. She couldn't afford to be lonely.  
  
Initially Roxy had worried over her lack of companions. As the only child of distant parents (who had handed her to nannies and boarding schools with cold indifference) she had been afraid that she had somehow lost the ability to commiserate with her peers. Once she'd joined MI6 her lone wolf nature had made her an asset for undercover cases and she'd thrived, soaring through case after case with an ease that had invoked jealousy among her colleagues. They were probably thrilled when she'd been assigned to the Kingsman matter.  
  
Following Percival to the dormitory that day she remembered being nervous, knowing she _needed_ to find an ally and uncertain as to how she'd accomplish that. Unlike Harry and Eggsy she didn't have any real relationship with the man who had recruited her. He'd admired her grace, the way she'd skillfully talked down a bank robber (a plant, obviously, but the bastard had been difficult because _he'd_ wanted the Kingsman case) and, when the man attempted to attack her, she'd put him down. Hard.  
  
That part of her deception had been effortless: impressing is what she did best. Later when Percival had proposed her she'd been suitably skeptical but had 'taken the chance' because she felt like she could be doing more for the world. That part was true, only at the time she'd been thinking of MI6, of protecting her country with all of her fierce heart.  
  
But then she was in a room with a half dozen schoolboys and one standoffish woman and her throat was tight, studying each of them in turn, trying to pick out the competition. She'd pegged Charlie as a threat right away - he was overconfident, but it was clear he was exceptionally athletic, had been proposed by someone already within Kingsman, and made sure to brag about his many talents and blue blood. Rufus she dismissed as too much of a follower, Digby was hard to read but she felt sure that, if he'd been a real threat, Charlie wouldn't have taken him on as a sort of second.  
  
Briefly she considered Amelia, noted the way she moved - too casual, as though she was attempting to hide her own strength. Roxy was well aware of how simple it was to hide an iron will behind a soft smile and a well-tailored jacket. She had just about settled on cozying up to one of the other boys, a loner who hadn't really talked much, not even giving them a name, when she heard Charlie's sharp intake of breath and turned to see the unexpected novelty of a low class chav eyeballing them like he was ready to be hated.  
  
In that instant she'd _known_ he was the one she'd be attaching herself to. Everything about him spoke of a rough life, which meant he likely would be enough of a contender to outlast half the room, but Roxy had taken one look at those hard green eyes and defensively squared shoulders and had also known that he wasn't a match for her... which meant he needed to be the second-to-last man standing. Part of her had been annoyed, thinking she'd be carrying a dead weight, but Eggsy had thrived during their training, surpassing the expectations of everyone in the room - especially her.  
  
And he'd been so kind, so warm and funny and bright. He hadn't treated her like a lady - some of the other boys made that mistake early on and she'd made a point to put them in their place - and, after their first test, he'd... well, he'd taken to her. She'd never experienced that kind of friendliness before, but he checked up on her. Teased her when he caught her staring after Merlin, goaded her in to racing him during one of their many, many runs even though they both knew better. He made her feel _happy_ , like she belonged.  
  
Roxy wanted that feeling back, wanted her friend back. Wanted to tell him the truth, that she was no good at relationships, even platonic ones. That she'd been bullied at school for all the usual reasons smart, poorly socialized girls were. That her parents didn't even remember her birthday unless she sent them an email in advance. She wanted to sit with him on her stupid little cot, with JB and Hercule between them just like it had been before, gossiping about everything and nothing over a shared tin of stolen biscuits he'd filched from somewhere.  
  
She wanted to tell him about the interrogations, her fears about spending the rest of her life in the belly of Kingsman HQ, an example to anyone who thought to tear them down. She wanted to tell him about Harry and his weekly visits, how obvious it was that Harry was gone on Eggsy (though she had a feeling that they were being difficult when it came to their relationship) and to maybe kick her friend in the shin if he didn't see it.  
  
Roxy wanted _out_.  
  
Not for one of her twice daily supervised runs with Hercule, not to sit in front of Kay for hours refusing to cooperate (and worrying the whole time because he looked _terrible_ and every time he came to interview he seemed smaller and smaller, chain-smoking even as he demanded answers they all knew she wouldn't give) while Merlin pressed random buttons on his tablet, pretending there was a reason for his presence and looking more tired than she'd ever seen him. She wanted to look over the recruits, to know how many were left and who was the most promising. She wanted to meet Harry in a dingy little cafe that he insisted upon instead of back in her cell. In short, she wanted her life back - her life as a Kingsman.  
  
But it wasn't that simple, even if it made her outright _furious_ she knew that she was, for the time being, on the backburner. No one had to tell her that the surviving knights had not magically recovered from V-Day any more than she needed to be told that international tensions had to be at an all time high - she was a clever girl, after all. Even then, she ached to be able to go on a walk without a sniper scope on her back. Wanted to wander in the woods with Hercule (who had grown to an impressive size) to see if he went crazy over spotting a squirrel.  
  
Once, the door had buzzed and it had been Gawain, not Kay, coming to fetch her. She'd forced herself to calmly follow him, knowing that Gawain meant torture. Torture meant that Kay had given up and someone had made the decision to push Roxy harder. Rationally she could understand that, and maybe even be glad because maybe it meant she was another step closer to a change in her current status. But her hands still shook when he tied them behind her back.  
  
When it was done, medical patched her up and she didn't see anyone, not even Harry, for two days. It's the only time Gawain is sent for her - which is probably for the best. He'd always been a bit like bedrock, unshakable, willing to be as ruthless as he had to be in the name of Kingsman, but his heart hadn't been in extracting information from her and she'd known it. His excuse was that she'd been well trained in resistance, both by Kingsman and MI6, but she didn't believe him. He'd practically flinched at the first sign of blood. Some part of her remembers that Gawain had a wife and two daughters, one around her age. She wonders if they survived V-Day.  
  
Roxy doesn't know what to think when Kay and Merlin come for her after that. Kay, for his part, succeeds in pretending there had not been a change in their routine but Merlin swallows hard when he sees the bruises, his mouth a thin, furious thin. It's the closest thing to a reaction she's gotten from him since the day she placed her gun in front of Arthur. A dark, desperate part of her selfishly wishes Gawain had tried again, just so she could see that look on Merlin's face, a look that had to mean he cared. Even if he hated it.  
  
She's getting bitter, lately. After all she is (was?) a world class spy living in a box and the strain is beginning to drive her mental.  
  
When the leaves turn brown and drop in heavy piles around the estate and snow begins to fall almost daily, she finally sees Eggsy for the first time since he'd stormed away from her. He has an oddly-shaped package in his hand, wrapped sloppily in metallic red paper with a gold bow on the side and he looks so defeated. It takes every bit of self-control that she has not to reach out between the bars, to try and comfort him in any way that she can because it's clear that he's hurting - and has been for some time. It's only the knowledge that he wouldn't welcome her attempts that keep her from trying anyway.  
  
"Hello Eggsy." He flinches, hands tightening on the package.  
  
"It's Christmas." His voice is flat, trying hard not to let his resentment leak out. Roxy hates that she's done this to him, reduced him to hiding from her. Surely there are other factors - Harry's tight smiles and refusal to speak about his former protege flash in her mind - but in the end it's easier to take the blame for herself because Eggsy is the one person in the world who liked her just as she was and had never asked for a thing in return. Even when she was a bit mean or harsh, when she made a choice based on logic instead of her gut. And she'd repaid him with blunt words that had wounded when she'd only meant to explain.  
  
"Today?" Their conversation is stilted and awkward, made harder by the fact that he hasn't given the signal for the door to her cell to open. He's just standing there looking uncomfortable and so very, very unhappy.  
  
"Nah, tomorrow." Abruptly he shoves the present through the bars. Instinct prompts her to grab it before the box falls, holding it stiffly against her chest, uncertain as to how she should react. She wonders if she's in shock, the sight of a broken Eggsy too much for her to take in. "Even liars and traitors should get something."  
  
"I suppose I deserved that." Her eyes are downcast she tries to think of something to say; coming up with nothing because she doesn't know how to make it right between them. He doesn't really give her the time to respond, shuffling away and out the door before she can even manage to thank him.  
  
Her eyes are blurry with tears as she takes a seat on her cot. Hercule comes over, sniffing excitedly at the box as she carefully unwraps her gift, revealing a beautiful telescope. She'd only talked about how much she loved stargazing _once_ , maybe a few weeks in to their training when they'd all been tasked with spending a week in the woods without provisions, yet somehow Eggsy had remembered. Had brought her a present in person even though it clearly caused him grief to even look at her.  
  
Again, she feels the loss of his affection keenly.  
  
It isn't just the telescope, either, though she knows Eggsy probably isn't aware of the fact that Harry often visits with her and tells her the source of the random items she often finds in her cell after she goes for a long run or has an appointment with Kay and Merlin. Always little things - a chessboard, handmade soap, a new book, her favorite jumper - but without question they brought her more joy than she could have imagined feeling months prior.  
  
After what she would guess to be a week Roxy has another surprise visitor. He shows up in the middle of her morning workout, the door opening to reveal the broad shoulders and bald head of one Ian Burke. She hadn't expected _him_ , of all people, to even grace her with his presence, but he's standing there now, looking torn and fiddling with his tablet.  
  
Unclear as to why he's there in the first place Roxy remains where she is on the floor, sweating after her usual barrage of situps and pushups. He doesn't leave her in suspense, grey eyes finally meeting her own for the first time in... she doesn't even remember the last time he looked at her, _really_ looked at her.  
  
"Harry thinks we should trust you." Direct as always, like her. Reluctantly Roxy stood, grabbing her towel off the edge of her bed and wiping the sweat from her neck and face, waiting for him to continue. When it was clear he was just going to stand there and _stare_ Roxy found herself sighing.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"Any opinion I have is biased which is why I've neglected to take part in the vote." He sounds grumpy, like she's forced the admission from him.  
  
"The vote?" It's the first time she's heard about anything to do with a vote and her heart sinks. _Harry didn't tell me about a vote._  
  
"To decide if you are still a Kingsman or not." She sinks to her cot slowly, masking just how devastated she feels to hear that they really might take Kingsman from her. Roxy had never allowed herself to think about what might happen if they decided to actually _do_ something about her, had pushed ahead, firmly telling herself that she had to stay strong, to be ready for her chance. And now this.  
  
"Some feel your actions during V-Day should absolve you, make you a true knight like they did Eggsy." He's running a thumb up and down the edge of his tablet. Merlin the Stoic, fidgeting with his stylus like he can't even help it. Her heart wants to hope, to believe that her actions have spoken for her, but with Merlin down here, actually speaking to her... she can't hope. Not even a little.  
  
"And you?" _It can't be good. You wouldn't be here if it was otherwise._  
  
"I am torn between wanting to strangle you and... missing you, I suppose." _Then look at me, Ian._ He shrugs his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with the implication that he cares for her. That big, scary Merlin might have feelings. Might have a _weakness_.  
  
She wants to tell him she misses him too, more than anything. That she'd stay down here forever if it meant she'd get to see him. But then he might leave her alone. "Strangling me would just mean more paperwork." She tries to smile and it feels wrong on her face. After a moment of struggling she drops it entirely and asks what she's dying to know, voice low, almost a whisper. "What happens if the vote is against me?"  
  
He pauses, looks at her hands. "You'd be executed."  
  
"Will I be able to explain?" Her voice is steady, and for that she's grateful because her heart has started hammering in her chest and she can feel herself breathing harder and harder. Any moment now she's going to get dizzy if she keeps it up, but she can't stop.  
  
"No. They're voting now. I couldn't, I couldn't be in there. Harry said he'll come down when he knows." _Oh god, he looks so scared for me. For months I've wanted some kind of sign from him... I suppose I got my wish. But I never thought it would be like this._ "I should get back to work." He meets her eyes again, looking so unlike himself that she swallows hard because she knows what it must mean. _I'm not ready for this. I need more time. Surely they won't..._  
  
"Ian wait. Just... will you sit with me for a while? Please?" At the end her voice quivers. She's afraid and for once she isn't going to hide it.  
  
Stiffly he takes a step closer, almost touching the bars that separate them. He goes from looking wrecked to biting fury. "There was a time that I would have leveled cities for you, if you'd asked." His words are laced in acid, all the more painful to hear because they are true, but if this is to be the end she's not going to let him push it all on her. She's far beyond being ashamed of her actions, has had months to realize she wasn't entirely wrong and didn't deserve all of the blame.  
  
She's standing now, shoulders squared despite her trembling. When she speaks, it's with conviction. _"I destroyed my entire life so I wouldn't have to lie to you anymore." You know this is wrong. You've wronged me and are trying to pretend that I'm only getting what I had coming to me. I won't let you have that lie, not even to spare you pain._  
  
"Dramatic, Roxy." Somehow he's yelling at her, trying to convince himself that this is justice. "You just didn't want to be caught."  
  
" _Bullshit_." Four steps have her standing before him, screaming right back in his face. She's terrified but it's easier to be angry. She clings to that feeling. "You wouldn't have caught me and you know it. I could have left, never said a single word." Both of her hands grab at the bars, holding them so tightly that her knuckles go white. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?" She's losing him, he's backing away now, shaking his head. It's too much for him so she gambles with the only thing she's got left. "A wager, then. If they vote in my favor you'll believe me."  
  
"And if they don't?" His emotions seem to be warring with one another - animosity and fear - and it's hard to say just which one is winning.  
  
"Then I'm just another liar not worth bothering yourself over." She tries to keep her voice steady, as though it's just a meaningless bet. It's like she already knows what they're saying about her several levels above and it's very important that Ian believe her now. If she's going to die, she wants to have that small comfort.  
  
"That makes no sense." He hasn't gambled, really gambled, in years now. Not since it nearly destroyed him. But he's tempted. She can see it in the way he edges closer, the way his eyes flicker from her to the door.  
  
"Afraid you'll lose?"  
  
"Yes." That stops her cold, but there isn't any more time. Merlin touches the edge of his glasses, clearly seeing something. The look in his eyes when he turns his attention back to her... _this is it then. It's happening_. "Harry's coming." She wants to reach out, to stroke his arm and so help her tell him it's okay, really. But it's already too late. The moment is over and Harry is there... on the other side of the door, smiling in that peculiar way of this through the small window. She's beginning to think getting shot might have scrambled his brains.  
  
"That's it. I'm not telling either of you anything until you get yourselves sorted." Roxy is too numb to even respond.  
  
"Excuse me?" There's an edge to Merlin's voice that just might be despair.  
  
"That girl is absolutely mad for you and you know it. You also feel the same about her. Yes, she breached your trust, violated Kingsman... but she didn't wait for you to find out about it, she told you. I rather think that says a great deal about her." Roxy wants to think that, with the way he's acting, Harry has good news for her. Surely he wouldn't be so droll in the face of her death warrant, would he?  
  
She honestly doesn't know.  
  
Merlin has stepped up to the glass, uselessly trying the door. If Roxy wasn't frozen, waiting to hear if she would live to see another day, she might have laughed at Merlin being defeated by something so trivial as a deadbolt. "Let me out or I'm going to show Eggsy some interesting footage of you during his training."  
  
"You wouldn't dare-" Harry's eyes narrow unhappily.  
  
"Oh no? Because I think he'd be interested-" Merlin is back to yelling but he's lost that hysterical note from before. Probably because fighting with Harry is something he knows. It's a familiar comfort in a situation that is so close to ruining him.  
  
"Don't make me cut your funding-" From experience Roxy knows that they can go on forever if someone doesn't intervene. Unfortunately it's going to have to be her - which is irritating, consider the fact that her very life is currently hanging in the balance.  
  
"...not that it isn't touching to watch you two have a lover's spat, but am I Lancelot or do I have a date with a headsman?" Both of them turn to face her, wearing almost identical frowns. She'd have smiled at them but she's too tense to do more than stare and wait. Eggsy probably would have had a quip at the ready, something bold and witty, but Roxy has never been the type to throw out one liners and doesn't even want to try. She's too drained.  
  
"You're both no fun." Harry stands up taller, putting on his official Arthur facade (though Harry would insist he does _not_ slouch) and his face arranges itself to seriousness. "Very well: Roxanne Morton you've been relieved of your duties as Lancelot."  
  
Just like that, the world stops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently instead of writing Hartwin angst I want to write Roxy angst.
> 
> Sorry I switch tenses, it's not intentional.


	7. Nimue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's going to happen to Roxy?
> 
> I'm terrible at writing summaries.

_Oh god. Oh fuck._  
  
The blood drains from her face so quickly she can _feel_ it, the sudden coolness. Roxy feels like a ghost and there's no helping it. If she'd been alone she would have sunk to the floor but she can't, not in front of these two men. Roxy can't let them see her break. Refuses to allow it, willing her shaking knees to hold her up even as she stares at them both with burning eyes. _This is my fault. They trusted me and I nearly fucked them. I don't deserve to be Lancelot. I know it. Why does it hurt so much then?_  
  
And then: _I'm twenty two years old. I don't want to die._  
  
Ian surprises her, opening the cell door with a few quick swipes on his tablet. He doesn't turn away from Harry even as he holds out a hand - a bitter lifeline, but she takes it. No one is speaking.  
  
Over on her cot Hercule wakes, yawning before padding over and licking at her free hand, sensing the sudden tension in the room but uncertain as to the cause. Her thoughts are strange, disjointed things. _Poor Hercule, my darling, I'll have to beg someone to keep you. I wonder if they'll tell my mother. How do they execute traitors anyway? A firing squad? Lethal injection?_ She feels the strangest urge to giggle and does.  
  
Harry, naturally, tuts at them both as though thoroughly disappointed. "You'll stand with her then, Merlin?"  
  
He says _Yes_ as Roxy says _No_. God, how she loves this stupid, blockheaded man. She's too weak to drop his hand. Doesn't know that he'd even let her had she tried.  
  
"She made a mistake, she shouldn't die for it Arthur." That he's saying Arthur, not Harry, seems strange. Ian isn't speaking as a friend but as Merlin, Kingsman's very own tech wizard. He's doing it on her behalf and dimly her mind wants to grab ahold of that, to save this moment for what's to come because she'll need it if she's going to be brave, but she just can't. It all is too surreal. _I'm going to die, and not even as Lancelot._  
  
"Oh I very much agree which is why I've done something a touch... _annoying_. At least to the knights who voted against Miss Morton." Her mouth is drawn tight against her teeth. She'd started to think of Harry as her friend but he's unshaken by the news and it's hard to understand though... _what exactly has he done to annoy the knights?_ Roxy can't think. It's bothering her because she's always been able to count on her wits. _I've never been told I'm going to die before either._ Shakily, she draws in a breath, not realizing that she'd stopped breathing until her vision started to spot.  
  
Mercifully, Harry doesn't make her wait. "I've created another seat at the table, not a knight per say but a liaison. Now that MI6 has an inkling about us it'll be much easier to confer with them, from time to time. No one is better suited to the position than Miss Morton." _Wait. Does that mean... they aren't going to kill me after all?_ Hazel eyes glance at Ian, afraid to hope even as Harry continues. "Or shall I say Nimue?"  
  
They both talk at once. Merlin demanding to know if she's free, still not letting her go, not even for a moment.  
  
"Nimue?" The word is ash in her mouth. _Please no, not that._  
  
"Yes." If Harry understands her dilemma he doesn't acknowledge it. _He can't know how much I hate that name. He wouldn't give it to me if he did._ Roxy believes Harry Hart is many things, but not intentionally cruel, not to those he considers his own. She thinks that he might have thrown out the first name he could think of in an effort to save her and the thought grounds her, brings her more fully back to herself. "Though she'll need to be especially wary. Accidents happen." Ian's hand is tight on hers. It hurts like she needs it to in this awful moment, another anchor holding her down.  
  
She licks her lips, swallows nervously. "How many votes were against me?" Strangely it matters, when it shouldn't. _I don't want to be Nimue._  
  
"You mean who was against you, correct?" Harry's gaze is steady on hers.  
  
"Yes." _Who do I need to watch out for?_  
  
"Percival, Galahad, Tristan, Kay, the newly appointed Bors, and myself were the only knights available to vote. Merlin absented himself of course and Gawain is in Tibet." She doesn't dare hope for much, but she needs to hear one name in particular voted to save her life. "Tristan voted in favor of you holding your position as Lancelot, as did I." Which meant... Eggsy voted against her. She expected Percival to, and the new knight following the others wasn't a surprise, hell even Kay, but _Eggsy_. Their Galahad. Roxy hadn't thought of their break as something she couldn't set right until that moment.  
  
"What now?" She is ignoring the fact that she feels like he's just shot her in the chest.  
  
"Now you convince MI6 to leave us the hell alone, mostly." He knows she's not asking about that, not really, and his voice softens. "I truly wish I could tell you he would come around but he is being remarkably stubborn."  
  
"Trust means everything to him."  
  
"Very true." For a moment Harry's spine stiffens but she doesn't let herself wonder why. "I don't like to see the boy hurt." Merlin scoffed at that. It seemed that Harry and Eggsy hadn't figured everything out after all. She wishes she could find her friend, tease him about how ridiculous it was for him and Harry to not be together, but she doesn't have that right. Not anymore. "Which means you, Miss Morton, have two choices. Fix what you've carelessly broken," He pauses to make it clear his next words are a threat no matter how silken they sound. "or stay away from him." With that the confounding bastard left. Hercule whined at her feet.  
  
Merlin finally dropped her hand, somewhat reluctantly. She's shaking even the dog at her feet presses against her legs, trying to offer comfort, and she runs a hand over his head even as she tries to compose herself. "What now?"  
  
"I expect we go back to work." Then he was walking away too. Or trying.  
  
Roxy grabbed his arm, forced him to turn around and face her. She wants to grab his chin, to make him look at her. "Oh no you don't!"  
  
"Did you have something further to say, Nimue?"  
  
"Don't call me that." Her voice sounds ruined, it doesn't sound like her at all and her eyes are blurry. _I will not cry._  
  
"It's your name, now."  
  
"The woman who betrayed Merlin." At least he is meeting her eyes now.  
  
"Lancelot betrayed Arthur."  
  
"I'd rather betray him than you." And it's true, a hundred times over.  
  
"I know, lass." He takes a deep breath and steps back, gingerly removing her arm from his. "Still a traitor though, no matter the name."  
  
She let him go after that. There wasn't anything left to say.


	8. This New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy adjusts to life as Nimue, but Kingsman isn't making it easy for her.

Six months. Six long, grueling, _godforsaken_ months shuttling back and forth between two ridiculous spy organizations that couldn't seem to agree on a damned thing. Not even when it came to her. _Especially_ when it came to her. MI6 seemed to think their prior claims still held firm and Kingsman never seemed to stop watching her, expecting the worst. It was becoming a point of pride to meet the eyes of the other knights during every meeting, to stare down Merlin (who was a stubborn bastard), Galahad (who was being a difficult prat), and Arthur (who thought the entire situation was there for his amusement) before moving back down the line.  
  
In all that time she hadn't been given a single mission. _Bastards_.  
  
Instead she politely declined when both agency's tried to make her spy on the other, bullied agents on _both_ sides to behave in a manner befitting them ( _honestly, babysitting grown men acting like schoolboys was not why she became a bloody spy_) on the occasions MI6 and Kingsman worked together, and was generally buried in paperwork and miserable.  
  
Ian - _you will address me as Merlin, Nimue_ \- was back to refusing to talk to her unless it was work related. It was reaching the point where she'd given considerable thought to tying him to a chair until he admitted he still wanted her.  
  
Eggsy - _my name is fucking Galahad, Nimue_ \- had gone from ignoring her (while seeing that she was taken care of) to being worse than an awful, spoiled little boy throwing a tantrum. It wasn't like their teasing before, which had been lighthearted for the most part. No, instead he sneered at her like an unprofessional little _shit_ , tossed wadded paper at her when she wasn't looking, made JB trip her up whenever possible... to herself Roxy could admit it was better than being ignored. And sometimes, as though she didn't notice, he left treats and toys for Hercule on her desk.  
  
Arthur - _oh please, must you call me that Miss Morton?_ \- had told her after she'd cornered him one evening that he couldn't ( _wouldn't_ ) help her with the mission assignments. Because her position wasn't officially that of a knight ( _you're Nimue the traitor now, not Lancelot_ ) he couldn't personally assign anything to her. Merlin was in charge of the rotation and if he felt that sending barely wet behind the ears newbies was better than sending a seasoned agent then it wasn't Harry's position to question that.  
  
He implied that it was _hers_.

Fine, just _fine_.  
  
So one day after hearing that the newly dubbed Lancelot - _a beautiful, svelt, golden-blonde bitch_ \- had gotten an assignment that Roxy was a hundred times more suitable to complete she might have gotten a touch... _upset_. She was not enraged. She did _not_ break the gold fountain pen she'd gotten on her eighteenth birthday clear in half.  
  
The strident click, click, click of her sensible pumps sent techs scurrying out of her path as she made her way to Merlin's lair. Technically, while plenty of people had proper clearance, few dared to actually enter the belly of the beast. Roxy had no such qualms. Nor did she mince words, she wasn't in the mood to play any games. Not today. "Merlin."  
  
"Yes, Nimue? Having trouble with the J13's?" He didn't even turn around to face her, focusing instead on the screens in front of him. _Nice try, Ian. But you tensed up when you heard me coming and we both know I saw it._  
  
Roxy valiantly resisted the urge to throw something at him. Like a paperweight. Or the desk. "Why the hell did you send Lancelot-" God that _grated_. "to Barcelona."  
  
A heartbeat of tense silence followed before he - with obvious reluctance - turned to face her. "Mission assignments are not your concern." He managed to sound calm, perfectly neutral even. She hated him for it.  
  
Crossing her arms and titling her head in a decidedly aggressive manner she all but growled out her response. Months of having her nose shoved in the shit had roughed away most of her polish, all her fine manners dumped in the sink. She didn't hesitate to growl out her response. "So help me if you don't stop sulking I'm going to break your nose, Ian. Maybe your arm too for good measure."  
  
Her threat is ignored and a tense minute passes, neither speaking, both breathing heavier than had been before. Roxy doesn't know how he manages it but Merlin brings out the animal in her. He's just so... _infuriating_. She wants to snap his glasses in half, shred that stupid cardigan off his ridiculously fit body and make him beg and beg and beg. And then she wants him to apologize and give her the Barcelona mission, dammit.

Finally, realizing he has to say something, Merlin breaks eye contact and turns away from her. Dismissive. _How very Rude of you, Merlin. Don't have the brass to lie to my face?_ "I am not sulking." His tone of voice suggests otherwise.  
  
She grits her teeth. "I am a qualified agent of this agency - and one of the _most_ qualified and skilled Kingsman has to offer." That isn't arrogance. After V-Day the best of Kingsman had been broken in ways that weren't easily fixed; even Eggsy had nightmares, though he'd hotly deny that. Roxy alone had been spared; she tried not to feel guilty about that and mostly succeeded. "I understand that I am not suitable for some missions but you're deliberately keeping me from doing my job. Sending puppies when you should be sending wolves."  
  
Merlin's mouth twitches up at that, amused by the idea, clearly. He turns back to her. "Wolves?"  
  
"Shut up. You know what I bloody well mean." Roxy's clenching her arms so tightly that she's amazed her perfectly manicured nails haven't dug through the fabric. "You're holding a grudge and it isn't professional."  
  
"I am not sulking and I am not holding a grudge Nimue." His chin juts out at that stubborn angle that means he's going to dig in his heels.

_Go ahead, be stubborn. I can be just as bullheaded as you._  
  
"Every time you say Nimue you might as well be saying liar or traitor or harlot or any other insult you can think of, as though I don't know what I'd done. I'm not some dog you need to smack on the nose with a newspaper for god's sake! And don't think I haven't caught you looking at that girl in her cheap skirts and ratty hair. Eggsy must have dug her out of the most godawful burrough he could find-" At some point during her rant she might have started yelling, he genuine concerns melting in to the more personal grievances she has with this man who is both a stranger and her perfect match.  
  
Admittedly, she might have been needling him just a bit. Before he always had a remarkable way of shutting her up; that is to say he would snog her until she couldn't breathe... and apparently that holds true as he's standing and towering over her in a blink, menacing and gorgeous. And then he's grabbing her and they're kissing, kissing, kissing. Like it's _air_.  
  
She's pressed up tight against the granite hardness of him, he's holding her so tightly she can't do more than gasp for air. "I say Nimue when I want to say please." The words are gravel and honey. They make her want to melt. "I say it when you make me want to smile." He uses his mouth to tip her head back, lips skating against her jaw, settling against her neck. Fucking _hell_. "I say it because if I don't I'll fucking _die_." They don't talk for some time after that, but he has to let her go eventually.

They step back together, suddenly wary of the lines they've crossed. Roxy breaks first, after smoothly her hair and adjusting her jacket (her blouse is wrinkled beyond salvaging without an iron, but the suit covers it well enough) carefully. She's proud of how steady her voice is. "Does this mean you'll stop ignoring me?"  
  
Merlin returns to his seat, sighing as though he can't help it. "Probably not."

"Will you assign me to missions?" She knows one of her eyebrows has arched up, her arms are crossed again and - if Eggsy had been speaking to her - he'd had called out her 'about to righteously kick ass' pose. It was one he knew rather well, especially lately.

A brief, considering pause. Roxy can almost feel the weight of it on her chest. But finally he gives her something, the smallest measure but it's _something_. "Yes, Nimue." _Small favors and all that, right? I shouldn't push him for more._

Unfortunately, she's never been particularly timid and can't help but toe the new, uncertain line between them. Curious of the boundaries he's going to place around them now. "If that isn't enough?"

"Roxy." Oh, she'd be lying if she said her blood didn't _sing_ at that, her name spoken so roughly finally - _finally_ \- after so long. She doesn't even care if he sounds ten kinds of exasperated.

"Don't make me resort to wearing skirts."  
  
"You hate skirts." He's smiling again, responding with his usual dry wit and reaching for his tea. It's almost like before, minus Eggsy. _I'm not going to cry because the man spoke to me like a person again, for fuck's sake._  
  
"They aren't very practical." Slender shoulders shrug and she turns to leave, willing to concede the battle - but not the war. She pauses at the door, throwing one last parting shot over her shoulder. "But something tells me if I subtract an inch every time you ignore me eventually you'll fuck me on your desk and we can try to make something of this."

Behind her she can distinctly hear him choke on his tea before the door shuts.

Her grin sends no less than five techs scurrying out of her line of sight in _terror_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -hides- I'm so sorry this took forever. I honestly wasn't going to have Roxy live, but then I changed my mind because she's awesome and I couldn't go through with it so I had to decide what to do with her instead. Probably only one more chapter left.


	9. Epilogue

The road to redemption isn't clearly marked. The signposts are different for everyone.  
  
Roxy knows that Percival has forgiven her after a year of grueling paperwork and two impossible missions executed with flawless ease. She can't say exactly _when_ she knew, only that they had gone from a sort of frozen hostility and avoidance to polite nods in the hallways and she had even accompanied him on a mission once - the latter had made her absolutely certain as Percival did not team up with anyone, ever.  
  
She's never able to earn any sort of absolution from Gawain; isn't able to help him either. He ends up going down somewhere in Spain trying to save civilians in a warehouse fire. It's a bittersweet send-off, toasting to the man. Knowing he had gone out doing something good, that he wouldn't have to suffer living with what he'd done. Roxy never did find out what happened to his wife and daughters.  
  
Kay conquers his demons eventually and surprises them all by retiring and settling somewhere in Wales with a lovely woman he'd met in a bakery. It wasn't done before, Kingsman retiring and just leaving the agency altogether, but Harry felt like it was a good change. It gave them something to live for. Roxy agreed. Every now and then he sent them silly postcards and parcels of the best apple tarts in the whole world.

Ian broke sometime after her hemline was an inch above her knee. After that he saw little point in trying to pretend she didn't matter which was a relief to them both.  
  
It is harder with Eggsy, the boy with the golden heart. He'd lived through too much to just trust her again but in that Roxy was absolutely determined. She cared too much about him to just let their friendship go.  
  
In the end what won him over was her own show of unflinching loyalty to Kingsman, and to him, rescuing him and Harry both from some villain's underwater lair even after she'd been ordered to stand down. _It's too dangerous lass, Harry knows that. He got a message through instructing us to blow up the compound._ All Roxy could think was _like hell we are._  
  
Merlin had been furious with her when they came back, half-alive but successful, but Roxy hadn't even cared. There had been no way she was going to let her makeshift family go without a fight, orders be damned. She hadn't even considered the very real possibility that she wouldn't make it back alive.

Long story short, she's now banned from Russia to avoid an international uproar after she borrowed a submarine and neglected to return it. _Good riddance._  
  
After that Eggsy had apologized, in between cursing at her for putting herself in danger and thanking her for saving them, and they went back to their old ways - much to the dismay of the tech department and public relations. (Really though, it isn't _all_ their fault if an ambassador grabbed Eggsy's arse during a kidnapping and Roxy broke his nose for it.)  
  
The new Lancelot - her name was Pepper, of all things - ended up not being so bad after all. Roxy actually liked her, she was a force of nature who could do wicked things with her stiletto heels and drank like a sailor. She supposed they were friends now after an interesting (drunken) night in some tiny flyspeck town in America.  
  
It isn't until years and years later that Roxy was severely injured to the point of being permanently grounded from fieldwork. She had been crushed, understandably, and adjusting to life with 70% of her hearing gone along with part of her left leg wasn't easy. Part of her wondered if it would have been better if she hadn't come back at all, but that part was effectively silenced when Merlin announced a new position within Kingsman: the Lady of the Lake.  
  
Her position.  
  
It was silly, she knew it, but over the years she had never gotten over the instinctive need to flinch away from her own codename... and Merlin was keenly aware of that. He knew and decided to give her a name she could live with, creating a place for her in Kingsman that she could be proud of. A lesser individual might have cried at the sheer love present in that gesture but Roxy chose to snog the hell out of him in his office.  
  
Roxy, she was happier than she could ever have imagined she'd be. She had a home in Kingsman, a family there that was chaotic and brilliant and wonderful. And if she protected them with all of her considerably frightening ability, well, she wasn't going to apologize for it.  
  
(Oh, and she definitely encouraged Ian and Pepper to help her trap Harry and Eggsy in a closet until they admitted they were ridiculously in love.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end of my little adventure in to making Roxy more than a sidepiece. I really loved writing this, even if I changed my mind and couldn't go through with my initial plans - namely, for her to be executed for her betrayal. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
